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Fitzhugh, Percy Keese, 1876-1950

"Tom Slade at Temple Camp"


"Any of my own patrol here?" he asked after a moment.
"Yes, Connie Bennett's here--and Will Bronson."
"Then I'd rather have them carry the stretcher, and I'd like for you to
walk along by me--I got something to say to you."
They did as he asked, the others following at a little distance, except
the little sandy-haired boy who persisted in running forward until Garry
called him back and kept his own deterring arm about the boy's shoulder.
"I don't mind my own patrol hearing--or you. I don't care about the gold
cross. It's only what it means that counts--sort of. I let Garry save
your brother, Will, because I knew he needed to stay longer--I knew
about that kid not being strong--that's all. I can go through water as
easy as I can through fire--it's--it's easier--if it comes to that."
"Don't try to talk, Tom," said Roy, brokenly.
"But I wouldn't tell even you, Roy, because--because if he'd found it
out he wouldn't think it was fair--and he wouldn't have taken it. That's
the kind of a fellow he is, Roy."
"Yes, I know what kind of a fellow he is," said Roy.
"Anyway, it's no matter now. You see yourself Hero Cabin is burned down.
A fellow might--he might even lose the cross. It's the three weeks that
counted--see?"
"Yes, I see," said Roy.
"And tomorrow I want to go back with you fellows in the _Good
Turn_--and see Mr. Temple. I want to ask him if that kid can stay with
Jeb 'till Christmas. Then I'll come back up to camp. I've thought a lot
lately about our trip up in the _Good Turn_, Roy.


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